


Pray They're not The Same

by Theyna_Shipper



Series: Chapter Theyna Fics [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Enemy's Name on Wrist, F/F, M/M, Referenced drug/alcohol abuse, Soulmate AU, Soulmates name on wrist, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:09:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21587392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theyna_Shipper/pseuds/Theyna_Shipper
Summary: Prompt: Your soulmate's name is on one wrist. Your enemy's is on the other. You don't know which is which. Pray they're not the same.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Past Luke Castellan/Ethan Nakamura, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, theyna
Series: Chapter Theyna Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570711
Comments: 6
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt I saw online.

I first learned to read when I was three. That was when I read the two names on my wrists, those that everyone is born with. 

Except most people have two different names.

Mine are both the same.

_Thalia Grace._

I learn what the names mean when I am six.

One is my soul mate. The other is my worst enemy. 

Most people will spend years trying to find out which is which, some hoping never to meet their enemies, others searching for that showdown. Most will try to find their soulmate. 

I will have no guesswork. Not that this will

When I am eight, I try to get rid of the marks. My parents find me in the bathtub, scrubbing my wrists until they bleed. They are panicked. They think I have been cutting.

"I want to get rid of them!" I scream.

My parents have never seen my marks before. I was in foster care until they got custody of me back. I ref to show the names to anyone.

When I am ten, I start wearing long sleeves everywhere. One day I pass out from the heat. After that, I buy armbands. 

When I am twelve, I get a crush on a girl in my school. The soul mate system doesn't prevent crushes. I cross out Thalia's name and write hers. But we all know that's not how it works.

When I'm 14, I decide to stop worrying, if I never meet her, I will never have to deal with these feelings. When other girls stare longingly at their marks, I doodle on my arms.

When I'm 15, I change my mind. I become obsessed with Thalia Grace. She's not on social media. All I can find about her is a birth record, from New York, the same year as me. If she's in New York, and I'm in California, maybe we'll never meet.

I meet her when I'm 18. She is in my sociology class. When we take role, the professor reads her name. Her "here" chills my blood. When it is my time to announce my presence, she is just as disturbed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thalia and Reyna have their first conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I COULD write satisfying conclusions to my other fics, OR I could write another Theyna AU that no one wants

I don't actually meet Thalia until three weeks later at a "We've survived this long" party. But I observe her from a distance during these three weeks. I learn that

~She is quiet, but when she does speak, she has a deep and gravelly voice

~She is a fan of dark, nihilistic, fatalistic jokes

~She wears a lot of black and a lot of heavy jewelry

~She's hot (I'm sorry, if you expect me to _not_ notice the attractiveness of my supposed soulmate, you are dead wrong). Like in a very traditional curvy-hot way. Her face is small and bony, and she wears a lot of makeup. She knows what flatters her.

~She spends a lot of time staring at me. Not that I can blame her

What I do _not_ learn is her major, general interests, or much other than her appearance and name.

My roommate is my best friend from high school, Nico di Angelo. I didn't want to room with a stranger for assorted reasons. Neither did he. Also, we figure we can keep each other under control. We don't talk about the Names we get often (ever), but now that I live within a couple miles of my soul mate and my worst enemy, I feel the need to broach the subject.

Weird to bring this up after so many years of not bringing it up? Sure. But I do it anyways.

"So, I've realized I've never asked whose names you got," I say, attempting to be casual.

Nico smiles thinly. "I'm my own worst enemy."

Given Nico's self-destructive tendencies, this actually wouldn't surprise me. But I'm pretty sure it's impossible to get your own name. 

"Ha ha, for real, who is it?" I ask.

"No, seriously," Nico says. He pushes up his sleeve. _Nico di Angelo_ is written on his arm in neat block letters. "I _am_ my own worst enemy."

"How do you know you're not your soulmate?" I joke.

"Very funny. But no one is their own soulmate. Even aro/ace people. They get a best friend or a pet or something. No, unless there is another Nico di Angelo out there, and I don't think there is, I am a human disaster. And that seems about accurate."

"And your soulmate?" I continue. 

He pushes up his other sleeve. Enemy, left wrist, soulmate, right wrist. It's different for everyone. Except me and, apparently, Thalia Grace. 

"William Alexander Solace," he reads off his arm.

"You know who he is?"

"Nope, haven't met him yet."

"Dude, just Google him," I laugh.

Nico looks embarrased. "I never though of that."

I now remember that Nico group in an anti-tech house. I pull out my phone and search _William Alexander Solace_. 

A few different people pop up. Most of them are a lot older or a lot younger than Nico. I find one that is only a year older, probably the one. "He's from Austin, Texas. His mom is a sort-of famous alt-country singer. He seems cute."

I show Nico picture. He nods. We look at his Facebook feed. His most recent picture is one of his wrist, which reads "Nico di Angelo." The caption is "Still looking for you, soulmate <3". 

"You should DM him!" I say. 

"I will later," he replies. He seems excited, but Nico is generally hard to read. "First you need to show me your wrists."

"Oh, you do not want to see mine," I insist.

"That only makes me want to see them more, you realize."

"That makes sense," I sigh. I push up my sleeves and hold out my arms for him to read. After an uncomfortable thirty seconds of silence, he looks up at me. 

"No way," he says.

"You better believe it."

"But- she's in your sociology class!"

"Yeah, I noticed."

"You need to look into this," he insists. 

I shrug. "I'll have to talk to her eventually, but I don't feel like rushing it. 

\--------------------

Someone a few rooms down from me is having a party, and I can't see the harm in attending, other than the obvious booze problems. I make Nico come with me.

I spend the first hour hiding in a corner with Nico, who spends the whole time texting William Solace, trying to find a way for them to eat. Eventually, I leave to go get a Coke. 

Thalia corners me in the kitchen. "I guess we're supposed to hate each other or something," she laughs. She takes a sip of what looks like punch, but is probably generously spiked with vodka. 

"And, according to my arms, love each other," I add. 

She pushes up her sleeves. Both her arms are completely tattooed. One of them is filled with pink roses on green vines, and hearts. The other arm is tattooed with red roses, and thorny vines, and black hearts. I see the theme. Lover and enemy. And unmarred by these tattoo sleeves are words. 

My name. Reyna Avíla Ramirez-Arellano. It is strange to see my own name, worked into artwork like this. It is even stranger to see it on the skin of someone who I am supposed to both love and hate unconditionally.

I look down at my own wrists, mottled with scars. Marks from when I tried to cut off the skin that held the names. Marks from when I tried to burn off the names. Marks from when I tried to tattoo over the names. Nothing works, They always resurface. 

The amount of times I attacked my wrists worried my parents to no end. I have been trying to erase them since I was eight. I have been in therapy since I was twelve. I have hated these names forever. 

The person who made my childhood so utterly miserable, who made me angry and depressed and emotionally detached, is standing in front of me. I feel angry, but more than anything I am curious. 

"So what's your deal?" I ask. 

"Psychology major, pansexual, probably not OK, confused by my fate," she says. "You?"

"Poli sci major, gay, definitely not OK, confused by you," I reply. 

She takes a step forward. "Care to learn a little more about me?"

I nod. She grabs me by either side of my face and kisses me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows the events of last chapter
> 
> Warning: underage drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please like and comment!

Thalia pulls away. Her kiss was intense and hungry, like she'd been holding out for her soulmate before kissing anyone. I know I was. It was so shocking, I'm not sure I enjoyed it or not. 

"I expected this to be more dramatic," I sputter. I'm still a little bit in shock. "I mean, meeting you. Your very _existence_ has shaped so much of my life."

"Dramatic? What about this hasn't been dramatic?" Thalia says. 

"I don't know, I guess I imagined that we would, like, explode on contact or something." Now I feel stupid. 

"Clearly not," Thalia says quietly. 

"So what exactly are we supposed to hate about each other?" I ask. "You seem like a half-decent person."

She shrugs. "Supposedly, the tattoo system simplifies it. We don't have to spend our whole lives wondering who to love and who to hate. But it seems to me it only creates more stress."

I realize that this is the one person who has been through the same upset as I have. She knows the struggle, hate, and anger that comes with it. This draws me to her, yet the lingering thought of _she is why I went through this_ remains in the back of my head. But I am the reason she went through this, and yet she still comes to me. "Maybe we don't need to worry right now," I say. 

Thalia nods. She wraps her arms around my waist and kisses me. 

I can't say fifteen-year-old me, who was obsessed with the mysterious Thalia Grace, imagined that our meeting would result in us making out at a boozy college party, but really, what about Thalia Grace has been predictable? 

"Reyna?" someone says. We break apart. 

Nico is staring at us. "I just wanted to make sure everything was alright and- OH," he says. He grabs me by my arm and yanks me out of the kitchen. He drags me into the bathroom and clothes the door behind us. 

"What the _hell_ , Reyna?" he demands. 

"She's my soulmate! There's nothing licentious about kissing her."

"She's your worst enemy. Don't you think you should try to figure out what that means before you dive in headfirst?"

"I lead my own life, and its utter awfulness was determined at birth, so let me live my own life." I shove him off and storm out. Thalia is waiting outside. 

"What was that about?" she demands. 

"Don't worry about it," I say. "Can I get a drink?"

She hands me a glass of "punch". It's sharp and very alcoholic. I pull Thalia close. "Do we really give a damn about fate?" I ask. 

"No," she says, and kisses me, hard. In full view of the party. 

"Soulmates!" someone shrieks.

"That's right!" Thalia shouts, a little drunk. "Reyna is my _soulmate_. And we don't care that are tattoos say we're, _enemies_. We're soulmates!" 

Suddenly I am intimidated by all these ambitious suggestions. But Thalia is wrapping her arm around my waist, and she's smiling at me, and she smells nice, and I'm a little tipsy, and they're playing truth or dare in the other room, and I kind of want to play, so I let it happen, against my better judgement. Who gives a damn about soulmates.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico tries to convince Reyna to stay away from Thalia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys are liking this fic (or if you don't you aren't telling me). It's a lot of fun for me to write, so I'll probably stick with it for a little while. Please let me know if there are other characters you would like to see!

When I wake up the next morning, I'm not entirely hungover, but not feeling smashing. I have a bit of a headache, and now that my sense of reason has returned, I realize I probably shouldn't have been so forward with Thalia. 

I check my watch. It's ten. 

"Look who's finally up," Nico remarks. 

"Good morning," I snap back. 

"There's coffee in the microwave."

Surprisingly nice of him. "Thanks," I grumble. "On a scale of one to ten, how stupid was I last night?"

"I'd give you an eleven."

I nod. "So about average for me."

Nico snorts. "Your _soulmate_ dropped by earlier," he says. 

I look up. "What did she say?"

"She said she was just coming by to check on you. I said you were sleeping and to come back later." 

I finish my coffee and put it down. "I should go talk to her, I still haven't gotten her number."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about her."

I turn back to him. "What's there to say? She seems pretty self-explanatory, if unusual."

He stands up. " _Nothing_ about this is simple. Have you forgotten about the 'worst enemy' part? Do you have a game plan?"

"Maybe it's not meant to be taken literally. Maybe it's about my fear of real relationships or whatever."

"So why are you going over there?"

"Because she's insane and there's no way we would have a normal relationship."

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Nico warns. 

"Let me ruin my own life, Nico, you're already doing well enough on yours." I grab my bag and storm out. 

When I arrive at Thalia's dorm, I see she's playing loud music and drawing. Paper litters her floor. She's wearing a tight fitting white tank top over a black sports bra, with black denim shorts. Her hair is parted significantly to when side, spiky and falling around artfully. Her black lip rings stand out on her red lipstick. She leans against the door frame. "Fancy meeting you here."

I gesture to the papers. "Busy?"

"Nah, just sketching tattoo designs."

"For you?"

"Some of them. Mostly I sell them."

"Seems cool. So, I didn't get your number before...?"

"Right," she says, and pulls a sharpie out of her pocket. She scribbles her number on my arm. "Call me?" 

"Sure." 

I head back to the dorm.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We only know the outline of any of their pasts. 
> 
> The details paint a far more interesting picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I challenge myself to write a decent-length chapter.
> 
> We start from Thalia's POV

Blood trickles out of my mouth and over my bottom lip. I can taste it, salty and strangely invigorating. "Tell me," says the person standing over me. Their voice is deep, gravelly, and impossible to place. "I know you know. I know where you confirm. Now spill."

I push myself up on my bruised arm and spit the blood out of my mouth. "For the last time, I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't tell."

"I highly doubt that," they say. 

\----------------

"I highly doubt that," Reyna says in the library, in response to someone's suggestion of a ridiculous theory. 

And that's when I place it. The voice that hounded me in an alley for information I had and couldn't give. A voice that haunted my nightmares, my dreams, and my life. 

My body takes over, like it has been trained for this very moment, probably because it has. I stand up, push Reyna to the floor, and run. I freaking run. Because that's what I wanted to do then, that's how I react to that. I don't stop until I am standing outside the quad, leaning against a wall, gasping. Wondering what Reyna is thinking, lying on the ground- not that she would have stayed down long. 

Of course we didn't recognize each other. Her hat had been pulled low over her face, and it was dark and rainy. I was wearing a mask, and color contacts. My hair was red at the time. 

I've avoided going back to the people who sent me on that mission ever since my initial carelessness with Reyna. But now I know I have to tell them. Now that I have my breath back, I sprint to the bus stop so as not to miss the bus that is just arriving. I follow it to the end of the line, then grab a bike from an abandoned rack. I ride it until I come to another decrepit rack, and leave it there. Then I hike the rest of the way up the decrepit trail. 

The building at the top of the hill takes my breath away, after going so long without seeing it. The cold, industrial steel telling me to leave, that if I enter I will stay forever. I know that isn't _entirely_ the case.

"Let me in!" I shout, banging on the door.

A boy I recognize opens the door. He hasn't changed in a year and a half. I swear he was wearing the same grey v-neck the last time I saw him. "Thalia Grace," he says, "It's been a long time."

"Shut up, Ethan," I say, elbowing past him. 

"Did the 'living your life happily alone' thing not work out?"

"Last I checked, your soulmate adventures didn't go so well."

Ethan blanches. I've hit his one sore spot, and he'll give me what I want now. Ethan is the one person who's been through the same thing I have- both his arms bore the name _Luke Castellan_. Ethan had thrown caution to the winds, and let Luke take him away. Into a world of drugs, booze, fast driving, and vandalism. Into the car crash that took Luke's live and left a piece of shrapnel in Ethan's side that took months of surgery to treat, and years to heal. He got dragged back to me, his first best friend, begging him to help him find a way to undo everything. 

That's how we found this place. The Database for Soulmate and Enemy Processing and Analysis of Pairing Anomalies. We fit in just perfectly, being "pairing anomalies".

But now I'm uncomfortably aware of how similar the path I'm going down is to Ethan's. Forgetting to be careful, letting Reyna charm me into liking her, not sure how she'll destroy me or if I'll destroy her. Ethan wasn't Luke's enemy but Reyna is definitely mine, so who knows how this will play out. Except I already have some sense. 

"So what made you decide to show up again, after how you left?"

"I have met my soul-enemy. And it's going well. So needless to say, I'm dubious."

"Needless to say," adds another voice. I look to see who it was. A man in a swivel chair turns to face me. 

"Mr. D," I grunt. So our director is still here. 

"Can't blame you for wanting to take a look," he continues. "We all need to at some point, satisfy our curiosity, then come back and feel stupid. But you've realized your mistake quickly, so no damage done, eh?"

"Oh, plenty of damage," I assure him. "How's the research going on the anti-system people?"

Ethan inserts himself back into the conversation. "Not great. The turnover rate is pretty high, so we can't really identify strong leaders. Also, their arguments are getting more convincing, even to us, but we can't back their methods."

I trace the scar on my right cheek. "Of course not," I murmur. "But you'll be happy to hear that despite my 'transgression', I've identified a leader."

Both men turn to me in shock. "How?!"

"Sort of by accident. Remember that person who cornered me and demanded information about the Database?" I fiddle with my Database bracelet.

"Of course we do. She broke your ankle. She gave you that scar," Ethan says. 

"I don't," Mr. D volunteers. 

"Shut up," me and Ethan snap simultaneously. "What about her?" Ethan continues. 

"She's Reyna," I tell him. 

The whole room goes silent. We all know each other's soulmates by first name, so it's not like I have to clarify. This is _my_ Reyna. And this is another piece in the massive puzzle that the Database has been trying to solve since Ethan and I turned up on their doorstep. 

"So let's get cracking," I continue. "What divine or earthly trick decided I should end up with this mess? And why does she have to be so freaking beautiful?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is getting a little more dystopian than I'd planned, but what the heck, see you in the next chapter, I'm still open to suggestions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyna returns to the dark place where she found safety as a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what about this fic and what could be improved, I'm trying to improve my fic writing. Also let me know if there is anyone you would like to see as a supporting character. Thanks!

I'm lying on the ground of the library, vaguely aware of the fact that my ankle hit the leg of the table and is bleeding, vaguely aware of the fact that Thalia ran immediately after pushing me here, but mostly aware that _I should have seen this coming_. 

"Reyna?" someone says. I push myself up. My vision swims. I stand up shakily. 

"I'm fine." I pull my pant leg lower to hide my cut. 

"What was that?" 

"I'm not sure. I think I'm going to go back to my dorm." I gather up my books and leave. The dorm is empty, and I go to the bathroom to patch up my foot. A few minutes later, Nico walks in to see me standing over the tub, trying to find a a band-aid big enough for this cut. 

"Dare I ask?" he says dryly. 

I don't even look up. "How much have you already figured out?" 

"Well, it appears as thought you cut your ankle, and judging by the fact that you're crying, I'm guessing it wasn't a dumb accident, and based on the past days' events, might I hazard a guess at Thalia Grace?" He says. 

"Regular Sherlock Holmes," I mutter. 

"It seems you followed through with your promise to ruin your life without my help," he snorts

"I didn't even need to try. She just pushed me onto the floor in the middle of a conversation," I snap. "So this isn't about my self-destructiveness, or my emotional issues, or my stupid high school drama."

"'High school drama'? You joined a cult, Rey."

"It was a _gang_ , not a cult. Big difference. And I never quit."

"You _what_?" Ok, so I failed to mention this part to him.

"Just because I moved away doesn't mean I'm not still part of the Anti-Assigned Relationship Fighters. God, the name sounds so stupid out loud." I trace my fingers down the tattoo all the Fighters had on their forearm. _I belong to no one_. 

"Don't tell me you're going to go back to Lupa," Nico says. "Those people messed you up. I'm serious."

"Forgive me for not being obsessed with your life advice," I say dryly. "I'm going where I need to go." 

\-----------

I moved away, but I didn't move far. An hour's drive later, I am outside an abandoned boutique, with boarded up windows, and locked doors. I'm sitting at the back door, preparing to knock, but stopped in my tracks but the rush of memories. 

I remember when I first came here, fifteen and terrified, having heard from someone at school that there were people who had issues with soul mate, who hated the soul mate/enemy system, who could help me. They opened the door on a girl who had grown a lot in a short time, who was dripping with rain, who didn't look like material for an anti-system gang. But they let me in, because they had all been me at one time. 

Lupa was the leader of the gang. She was thirty at the time, but already looked a lot older. Her pixied hair was silver, and she wore mostly brown leather with silver jewelry. She was fierce, and fiercely protective of her ragtag group of confused teens and twenty-somethings. She commanded immediate respect. 

"You're a fighter," she decided. "Stick with us, and you'll learn how to fight for real."

Turns out I was a fighter, and I became a Fighter, and I did learn how to fight. So well that by the time I was 17 I was the leader of a sloppy "cohort". And I went after the high-level system workers, and almost cornered one. 

Now, as I stand outside the building, I wonder. Will they have me back. 

The door swings open, knocking me off balance. I hadn't even realized, but as the memories overwhelmed me, I had grabbed the doorknob for support. So I'm lying on filthy pavement, staring up at Lupa, who looks the same as always. 

"As graceful as ever, I see," she says. 

"Nice to see you, too," I mutter. 

I walk in to find that it looks the same as ever. Some new people, some the old. All of them with some story about how the tattoos ruined their lives. All of them scared, passionate, and with unlocked reservoirs of fury. 

"Is it Thalia?" Jason asks. "Because we gathered more data on her."

"So have I. This being that she goes to my school and was getting along with me until this morning when she suddenly threw me to the floor."

"Yes, well, that might have something to do with the information we collected on her. Namely that she works for the database."

"And that she's my sister." Jason spits.

I sit down. "It seems I've missed quite a bit."

"It seems you have," Lupa replies.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi guys I'm completely out of ideas for this fic so if you have prompts or would like to adopt the work let me know

Update I have abandoned this fic because I am out of ideas and don't like writing at any more


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